


Our travel

by Azorita



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Drama, First Crush, Genderswap, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azorita/pseuds/Azorita
Summary: AU where Moomin convinces nb!Snufkin and they go on Snufkin's winter trip together. However, just spending time together is not enough for Moomin.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Kudos: 7





	Our travel

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Наше путешествие](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28239111) by [Azorita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azorita/pseuds/Azorita). 



> Actually, Moomin is fem!Moomin but you can't really tell from the first person pov.  
> And, once again, English is not my mother tongue but I hope it's okay.

They say in Mumindalen that you can always find a brighter side to things. That every misfortune brings you strength, or experience, or the knowledge that this is something you can overcome too. 

If you give it some thought, turns out our argument gave me knowledge as well. 

Now I know. I know that I will never try to tell Snufkin they’re not doing enough. Ever again. 

Tears are welling up in my eyes, over and over. I have nothing to wipe them with, save for the tail tuft. My tail is too short, though. 

It’s very quiet by the fireside without Snufkin. Of course, they don’t usually say much but when you are sitting around the fire with somebody, with them, and keep your feet warm, and slurp the hot cocoa – it’s entirely different, isn’t it?

But Snufkin’s gone. Because I asked them too strongly not to go. And you can’t make Snufkin stay. 

The fire’s long out. I’m very cold by this point. And they are probably going to wander in the woods all night in the dark. 

"Snu-uf-kin…" I call out quietly, and nobody answers. 

My voice trembles. 

"You know I can’t stay with anyone forever, Moomin. The mountains are calling me, the sea is calling me, and I can hear in my soul all the songs I haven’t played yet. That’s just the way I am, you see."

They are speaking in a very calm and quiet voice – the way they would explain to a child that we are all going to die at some point. 

And this makes it hurt a thousand times more. 

"But we agreed to spend the winter together," I answer stubbornly and sob. "Maybe it was something I did wrong? Tell me what it was! I want to be a good friend for you… More than anything else."

Snufkin shakes their head and frowns.  
'You can’t just make somebody always be by your side. You think I will never leave you if you act in some special way – but this is me. I can’t spend all the time with anybody, even if they’re a very nice person. Even if I love them very much. "

I startle at the word and keep my face down, feeling guilty. 

"Yes, I agreed to spend this winter with you… But it never meant we were going to be together all the time. I still need time to be by myself to restore my energy. Do you understand?"

I shake my head. I don’t…

The night is oozing down from the sky to the meadow, but I don’t start a fire, don’t turn on the lantern and don’t even get up even though I feel like I’m frozen to the ground. What’s the point of taking care of myself if Snufkin is gone? What was the point to leave Mumindalen anyway, to leave our cozy house if in the end I’m left all alone again…

I sob. 

But it’s none of their fault, of course. 

I look down, at my clumsy feet, and that’s why it’s at the last second that I notice a moth that flies out of the woods. It seems to feel that there must be a light around here, it seems to hope it’s going to appear any second now… But it can’t catch it. 

I lift my hand and the moth that has nowhere to fly lands on my finger. 

And there comes the memory of the day we touched each other for the first time – the day when it meant something special. 

"No one has to restore their energy after talking to a friend… If you really like being friends with somebody, you don’t need to take a rest from it," I answer resentfully while pulling my knees up to my chest. 'You don’t need to take a rest… if you really… love somebody…"

Snufkin heaves a sigh. I don’t see their face, but I can hear discontent in that sigh. 

"That’s not true. You can’t spend all your life in the same place, you can’t speak the same things all your life… You can’t spend all your life with one person. "

I interrupt them with a question:

"You mean you want to leave me? Maybe not now, but one day? Do you?"

Silence. 

"Do you?"

"I don’t know," they answer. "Maybe." 

And I can feel my heart cracking. 

After some time, I cannot even make out the silhouettes of the trees and the outline of the tent. There’s only the gloomy sky left – which is just half a shade lighter than the night all around – and the moth that is about to be left all alone. It spreads its wings and flies off, for half a minute, for a minute whole, but it always returns.

The tears won’t dry, I rub my cheeks over and over, and my chest is aching from all the weeping. 

I close my eyes and I cry. 

I open them up. It’s the cold night. 

I close them again. 

"Well, I wasn’t talking about that," they continue, losing their patience. "I meant to say that I need some me-time, sometimes I need to go off on an adventure that is just my own… Everybody needs that. Why can’t you see that?"

"Because… I need you… So much…"

I don’t know how to put into words all the stuff that weighs heavily on my heart. I don’t know what else to say. 

Neither does Snufkin. They turn around and go away. 

I start shivering from the cold and the pain when another moth appears. Then another one. They touch me with their wings, one at a time, and land right on my wet snout. They help me to think about something else. Because the most terrible thing is not the pain itself but thinking about pain. If you can stop thinking, even for a really short while, you start feeling slightly better. 

And, however grieving I am, little spirits of the forest help me calm down, bit by bit. 

Then Snufkin comes out of the woods. They are just as they always are – humming something in a low voice, sitting down on one knee to rekindle the fire. Making themselves comfortable. Taking their hat off. 

And I cry again, I cry and I cry when they start talking to me, when they place the pan over the coals without any reproach, when they send the pancake into the air. I cry when they hold out a plate.

But these tears are different.

We make up after all, and Snufkin promises me they are not going to leave right away, and I apologize and tell them I will let them be alone. And when I say that I’m very tired, Snufkin follows me into the tent.

I’m lying on my back, pulling the covers up to my chin and watching their silhouette. Sitting on the sleeping bag with their back to me, they put their hat in the corner of the tent, and the pipe goes into the ceiling pocket. They undo the scarf. Grab their shirt’s hem, and I shut my eyes quickly, feeling my cheeks blush. 

"We can stay here tomorrow, if you want to," I hear suddenly. "Or we could move on. Whichever you choose. "

I open my eyes, amazed. Snufkin is still turned away from me, undoing the binder. 

"What do you say?"


End file.
